The Past Comes Back to Haunt You
by bubblysuds19
Summary: Clint and Natasha are settling into life in Stark Tower with the rest of the Avengers when they are informed of an old enemy's plan to disassemble their family. Blackhawk/Clintasha.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own any of the characters.

Enjoy :D

* * *

_SHIELD Headquarters, New York, 09:18am_

* * *

"Romanoff!...Barton!"

Maria Hill barked from the balcony above one of the meeting rooms. "Fury's office in 10," she added before exiting through the sliding doors.

"Sassy today, aren't we?" Clint muttered under his breath as he sat casually on one of the swivel chairs planted around the circular table.

"Hill is one of the big guns around here now, Clint, ever since..." Natasha hesitated, her voice lowering. Clint raised his eyes to her, knowing exactly what she was going to say, and mentally completed her sentence.

_Phil Coulson._

"She's just doing her job," Natasha finished, clearing her throat with a forced cough. She tried to put the death of their colleague and friend to the back of her mind.

It had been over a year since Loki's attack and wounds were still taking time to heal. Natasha stretched her legs out under the table to make herself comfortable in the chair.

"She could be a little more polite," Clint replied quickly. "We've been called in here for a favour for Fury, a little respect wouldn't go amiss."

"Your feelings hurt, Clint?" she teased playfully.

"Indeed, I'm deeply wounded," he replied jokingly, feigning injury.

Natasha took his hand in her own and squeezed his fingers gently. "What do you think he wants?"

"Maybe he just misses us?" Clint shrugged playfully in response. "Maybe he misses our bickering and horseplay." Clint's cheeky grin soon disappeared when he noticed Natasha's weary glare. He sensed her anxiety and attempted to calm her. "Hey, I'm sure it's nothing, right? Maybe he has finally decided to give us his blessing after all this time," he reassured giving her hand a squeeze back.

Fury hadn't exactly been 'supportive' of their relationship through the years.

"We should get going," she declared, moving out of the chair and straightening her back as she stood.

Clint took in his partner's appearance as Natasha rose to her feet. Her flaming red hair fell lightly around her shoulders, embellishing her entrancing features. She was wearing her khaki cargo pants and a loose fitting black t-shirt that gripped her bulging abdomen. She rested her right hand easily on top of the rounded bump and moved away from the table. Clint reached for her left hand and they sauntered casually through the corridors to Fury's office.

"Agent Romanoff, Agent Barton," Fury greeted. "It's been a while since I planted my eyes on both of you. How are you two fairing?"

Clint's eyes narrowed unconsciously. "Fine, sir..we're all keeping well."

Natasha pulled her gaze from Fury to scan his blackened office windows. "What's this about, sir?" she asked, flitting her eyes back to the Director.

Fury huffed reluctantly, "We best get down to it then."

Clint eyed the man suspiciously, panic rising in his gut. "What's going on?" he asked as fisted his hands into balls, willing the lump that formed in his throat to disappear.

"At 0200 hours this morning, we received intel from a reliable source in Moscow about a target that has been on one of our kill lists for some years now. Our source tell us that this target is planning an operation to infiltrate and compromise our SHIELD bases in the US. Our source also informed us that they have sent out a hit on one of our very own," Fury stated coldly.

Both Natasha and Clint soaked in this new information. "Who's the target?" Clint demanded impatiently.

Natasha took a step back, almost winded by her sudden realisation, her instincts confirming the worst. "They're after me."

Clint swiftly turned his head to look directly at his partner. "What?..What do you mean they're after you?"

"Dixon," she breathed out, the thought of him almost sucking the breath out of her. Fury nodded sharply, confirming her suspicions.

Liev Dixon, later known as Igor Kirov, was a former Soviet officer turned crime lord of the criminal underworld in Moscow. Natasha encountered Dixon while she was working as an assassin for hire after she broke away from the Red Room. She had been hired to kill one of Dixon's associates, a man who owed him a substantial amount of money, they would later discover. She succeeded in her mission, infiltrating her target's team and eliminating the mark. To Dixon's displeasure, he never received the substantial sum and held a grudge against the assassin who took out his debtor.

Years after Clint recruited her into SHIELD, almost a year into their partnership, the two assassins were sent to Munich to take out Igor Kirov. He had become a blip on the agency's radar after he struck a lucrative deal with the Russian Mafia. Natasha had some inclination who they had been sent to kill but the unfamiliar name threw her off the scent and so she ignored her instincts and continued with the mission. Clint and Natasha infiltrated Dixon's warehouse only to be ambushed by his henchmen. The two assassins were subdued and captured for interrogation.

Clint stopped, still in his tracks. "That bastard," he growled. "How..how could this happen?..Natasha's been out of commission for months! No one should know about our situation," he signed and paused for a moment. Fear flashed across his eyes, "Does he know that she's pregnant? Does he know that she's eight months along?" Clint rambled, pointing to Natasha's prominent bump.

"I can't confirm that Barton, but from what we have gathered, he probably already knows that information," Fury replied calmly. Natasha's anxiety worsened and she spun around and began pacing, thoughts whirring through her head.

Clint scrubbed a hand down his face, trying to gather his thoughts. "So, what's the plan?" he asked impatiently.

"We've organised for you two to lay low in South America. We have a safe house set up there where you can stay until all of this blows over and we find the bastard behind this," he paused. "We want you two to stay as close as possible to us without actually being in the country...we couldn't exactly send you to one of our safe houses in Europe," he added flatly. "Your flight leaves at 1500 hours this afternoon."

"How long are you planning on keeping us there?" Natasha demanded.

"As long as it takes," Fury stated matter-of-factly.

"Well I can't wait for 'as long as it takes', sir," she replied, rubbing absently at her enlarged abdomen.

"We know this is a delicate topic for you two," Fury said calmly. "But this is all we can muster up since we got the call this morning. You're better off out of the country for the time being while we sort this out."

Natasha turned her back to the two men and stared at the blackened windows again.

* * *

_Warehouse basement, Munich, Germany, September 2008_

* * *

_"Clint..." Natasha murmured, trying to rouse her fatigue-ridden partner. Her ribs ached at her subtle movements._

_Clint was sitting on the ground across from her with his back to the grungy wall, his hands bound above his head by chains attached to a steel bar on the wall. His __head was lowered, chin almost touching his chest._

_"Clint..hey, no sleeping on the job, remember?" she said, a little urgency filtering through her voice. __He failed to reply._

_"Clint!" she barked impatiently from where she sat, bound and slouched in the same position Clint was._

_"Mmm," was all he could manage as he raised his head a little, trying to blink away the foggy dew that spotted his vision._

_"You can't fall asleep, okay?...You need to stay with me." Natasha tried to sit up straight but her cracked ribs and beaten and bloodied wrist protested. Another fracture __to add to her chart in SHIELD medical._

_Clint blinked forcefully, finally driving the hazy fog away. He blew out a breath. "Coulson will get us, Nat..He'll be here soon."_

_Natasha wanted to believe him, she wanted to with all her might, but after the last few days the hope in her soul was starting to dwindle. They had been ambushed by __Dixon's men, beaten into submission, and thrown to rot in this godforsaken dungeon for what seemed like weeks. But it had only been two days. Time ran slowly and __she knew that Clint was running out of time. The injuries he sustained were slowly sucking the life force out of him._

_She craned her neck slightly to get a better look at the archer across from her. "Clint, how's that wound doing?"_

_While being interrogated by Dixon's bodyguard, Clint had given the same old shtick he always offered gladly in these dire situations. For his trouble, the burly bodyguard __picked up a rusty screwdriver that had been left on the floor of the underground bunker and mercilessly plunged it into Clint's side._

_That was yesterday. This was today._

_Clint had lost a lot of blood in the meantime, the puncture wound leaked crimson fluid freely onto his trousers and continued to spread across his torso. It seeped into __the thin fabric of his grey t-shirt. A pool of blood now lay beneath him. His face had become pale white, highlighting his lethargy. Infection was probably starting to __settle in. __If only she could reach him to put some pressure on the wound and somehow curb the steady flow._

_"Still bleeding, Nat.." he replied, meeting her worried eyes with his own exhausted ones._

_"All right, okay.." she soothed, trying to hide the panic rising in her throat. She paused for a short moment and thought. "Any luck with those chains?"_

_"No, I can't...I've tried...my hands won't co-operate.." he replied with a groan, rustling his restraints. __He coughed forcefully, clearing his throat, and took in Natasha's form._

_"How're you holding up?" He cocked his head towards her. "Nasty cut you got there," he acknowledged, referring to the laceration that Natasha was sporting just __above her hairline, courtesy of the guy who had knocked her out._

_"It's fine, nothing that a few butterfly bandages wouldn't mend," she replied with a smile, hoping to lighten the situation slightly._

_Clint chuckled softly, appreciating her attempts to lighten the mood. __"Coulson is coming...We'll be out of here in no time," he reminded, willing her not to lose hope._

_"I know he is Clint," she smiled, reassuring him that she was still in the fight, that she hadn't given up hope. Coulson hadn't given up on them. Their stubborn as a __mule colleague would never give up on his two assassins._

_Clint smiled in return and looked towards the bolted door, longing for Coulson to bustle through and save their asses. He blinked sluggishly as another wave of fatigue __hit him. He swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the creeping blackness. He could feel himself starting to pass out again._

_Natasha took note of his shallow breathing and spoke up, breaking the weighty silence, "Hey..eyes on me, bird boy."_

* * *

_SHIELD Headquarters, New York, Present day_

* * *

"We understand," Clint responded, nodding on behalf of his partner. "We don't have much of a choice either way."

Fury nodded in agreement. Clint stepped forward and eyed Fury cautiously, lowering his voice, hoping that Natasha wouldn't hear.

"If anything happens to either one of the two most important things in my life, it'll be your head on the line, Director," he warned and paused, "after I kill Dixon myself."

Fury stared back at Clint for a lasting moment, slightly surprised at the archer's threatening tone. "I have my best teams already out there, Barton...We're gonna get the guy who is planning this...trust me."

Clint nodded in return and Fury lifted his eyes to Natasha's glowing figure. It was almost like their little exchange never happened. He didn't take Clint's warning personally, he knew that the agent was terrified for his partner, his family.

"Agent Romanoff, I wish you the best of luck...with everything."

Natasha knew that Fury was referring to their impending arrival, knowing he wouldn't admit it outwardly. "Thank you, sir," she replied in humble appreciation.

She admired the man in leather, however cantankerous he was at times. Fury had always gone to great lengths for his agents, sometimes over-stepping rules, regulations and foreign borders to ensure their safety. Natasha applauded the man for his determined and fearless nature. It was one of the reasons he was appointed Director of SHIELD.

Fury moved his eyes back to Clint, who was still stood directly in front of him. He cocked his head and spoke almost in a whisper. "Barton," he sucked in a quick breath, "keep them safe."

Clint nodded his head in understanding and turned to leave the Director's office. Taking Natasha by the hand, the two exited the office swiftly.

* * *

End of Chapter 1

Hope you guys enjoyed that...a little something to whet the appetite.

:D


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own any of the characters.

Thanks to all who reviewed :)

* * *

_Clint and Natasha's room, Stark Tower, 11:08am_

* * *

Natasha sat lazily on the corner of the edge of the bed with her feet planted firmly on the floor. Resting her elbows on her knees and cradling her head, she closed her eyes and half-hummed, half-sighed to herself. She attempted to drive the accumulating worries from her mind.

Clint was in the middle of packing their clothes and belongings into rucksacks and duffel bags. He was currently in the adjoining bathroom packing towels and other toiletries. He opened the door and made his way out, tossing one of the now fully packed bags at the foot of the bed. His bow and quiver rested against one of the duffel bags. He looked towards his partner and took in her hunched form. She sat pensively, eyes focused on her bump below.

"You're thinking too loudly," Clint teased, breaking the silence.

Natasha turned her head and looked up, eyes sullen with worry. "Clint, what if Dixon finds us? What if something happens to the baby?"

"Hey...hey, it won't come to that, okay?" he soothed as he moved and planted himself beside her on the bed. Rubbing deep circles on her back with his right hand, he spoke softly, "We're going to be fine, all right? We just need to get out of here and focus on keeping the two of you safe."

Natasha's lips curled into a smile and she stretched her neck to meet Clint's lips with her own. His light stubble rubbed gently against her soft cheeks. "We'll be all right, won't we?" she asked, hope illuminating her face.

"Of course we will..You've got me haven't you?" Clint lifted his feet up onto the bed and positioned himself behind Natasha, where he continued her goose bump-inducing back massage. Putting pressure on all the right places, Natasha sighed in relief at Clint's touch, leaning her head back and rolling her shoulders forward.

"That feels amazing," she said with an audible breath.

Without a word of response, Clint leaned forward to place a kiss on the back of her neck, just behind her earlobe. She moaned slightly, showing her gratitude, turning her whole body towards his own. She lifted her knees onto the bed and stalked forward, hungry for more. Clint smiled widely and allowed his partner to approach.

* * *

_Stark Tower, 12:39pm_

* * *

The gang had assembled in the kitchen and living room area to discuss the master assassin's impromptu trip to Manaus, Brazil. Natasha and Bruce were standing in the kitchen making tea and coffee while Clint, Steve, Tony and Pepper sat on the lounge couches around the coffee table. Clint informed the team of their history with Dixon and their nightmarish experience in Munich.

"So, Fury believes this is a legitimate threat?" Steve inquired, looking to Clint for confirmation.

"Yeah, he seemed pretty shaken about it too..uncharacteristic for him, right?" Clint responded.

Tony perked up, after hearing the sound of mugs clanging together coming from the kitchen. "So you guys are just gonna up sticks and move?" he asked disbelievingly.

"We don't have any other choice, Stark..I need to keep Natasha safe until the threat is removed...for how long I don't know. If she goes into labour during that time then that's something we'll just have to handle when it happens."

"How far does she have to go?" Pepper asked quietly, nodding towards Natasha's pregnant figure in the kitchen.

"Less than a month," Clint answered. "I just hope this whole thing straightens itself out before the little one decides to make it's grand entrance."

They all paused and reflected on Clint's words. It was hard to believe that there would soon be a new addition to not only Clint and Natasha's lives, but the  
rest of the team's lives as well. From the moment Natasha revealed her pregnancy to their gaping mouths, the tide in Stark Tower changed slightly. Cravings and maternity clothes were just some of the topics being discussed at the dinner table. The whole team was behind their two favourite assassins and right now, Natasha's and the baby's lives were the most important thing to the team.

"How about we go after the son of a bitch?" Tony suddenly piped up, shrugging his shoulders. "That should end this whole fiasco pretty briskly."

"Fury already has his best, fully equipped, teams out in the field looking for her pursuers. From what he gathered, Dixon's men are pretty tactful in their approach and attacks," Clint informed his team mates.

"I thought we were the best team?" Tony chided playfully. "Earth's mightiest heroes anyone?" Pepper and Steve both rolled their eyes.

"They're an elite unit, specialising in tactician skills and infiltration," Clint explained flatly.

Steve raised his eyes to Clint, realising what that meant. "We wouldn't be able to stop the bullet marked for her," Steve finished in a sombre tone.

Natasha reached up to one of the cupboards to retrieve the white sugar bowl. A sharp twinge in her belly made her flinch and she inhaled sharply. She blinked forcefully and tried to calm her suddenly racing heart. Her eyes were met by Bruce's, full of concern. He had noticed her sudden jolt.

"You okay?" he asked warily, eyebrows knitted together.

She paused for a moment. "Yeah...I think so," she answered quickly, trying to shy away from the sudden scrutiny. "Baby's using my ribs as a punching bag."

The initial anxiety left Bruce's eyes and he nodded at the redhead. "Movement is a good sign around this time...something tells me he or she has inherited their parent's penchant for being active."

Bruce smiled as he lifted the kettle and proceeded to pour the boiling water into each awaiting mug. They soon joined their team mates huddled around the coffee table and discussed the plan.

* * *

_Quinjet holding area, SHIELD Hangar, 14:56pm_

* * *

"Ready to do this?" Clint turned to Natasha, who was strapped into her seat, the belt buckle straining slightly against her bump.

"Ready when you are," she replied with a smile.

"All right, take her up, Peterson!" Clint bellowed to the pilot in the cockpit.

The pilot hummed into the radio, setting themselves up for take-off. "Ready for departure," the pilot answered. The radio responded accordingly and soon they were airborne, gliding through the sky.

Clint undid his belt buckle and moved over to where Natasha was seated, her head resting against the jet's interior. Her eyes were closed but her breathing pattern suggested she wasn't sleeping. Clint took her hand that was resting on her knee and enclosed it in his own.

Aware of the new warmth encircling her hand, Natasha opened her eyes and searched for the source. "Hey," she greeted, almost in a whisper. She reached up to cup his jaw with her free hand, noticing dark circles that were beginning to shade his brilliant blue eyes. "You look tired."

Clint chuckled lightly, "I'll be all right." He paused for a moment, thinking aloud. "Once we land, we're gonna need to get a few things together, in case..well you know.." he added carefully.

"In case this little one decides to arrive earlier than expected?" she finished.

"Yeah," he nodded as she spoke. "Let's hope that he or she takes after me and has a tendency to delay important functions."

Natasha giggled, her stomach bouncing as she shook gently. She squeezed Clint's hand and placed it on the curve of the rounded bump, covering her own with his. "Hey, have a little rest while we're waiting."

Without moving his hand hidden beneath Natasha's, Clint nodded, turning his body slightly and stretching his legs out onto the line of seats to his right. He leaned his head back to rest lightly against Natasha's shoulder and placed his right hand flat on his chest. He soon let sleep fall over him.

Natasha waited for his breath to even out rhythmically and only then did she guide his head down carefully and place it on her lap. She lifted her hand to sift through his light-brown hair, rubbing in soothing circles. She never felt her eyelids close as sleep soon claimed her as well.

* * *

End of Chapter 2

Next chapter soon!


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: _I don't own any of the characters.

Thanks to all who reviewed and followed!

* * *

"Agent Barton, we'll be landing in ten," the pilot bellowed from his seat in the cockpit.

Clint's eyes bolted open, driving away the sleepy haze in his head. "Thanks Peterson," he replied, clearing his throat.

He lifted his gaze up to land on Natasha's neck just above him. Her chin was titled so her head could lean back on the jet's interior wall. Her red curls brushed her shoulders and the inside of her neck. He tuned his ears to listen to her deep breathing, rhythmic and alluring. She was asleep this time.

Clint slid her hands that we still invested in his hair to the side and lifted his head off her lap. He stood up quietly and stretched his arms above his head, eliciting a muted yawn from his mouth. He crouched down on his hunkers and reached to check their duffel bags and rucksacks. He picked up his bow for a moment, reassured by it's weight in his hands. The bow had it's own way of calming the creeping nerves in Clint's mind. He swallowed thickly, willing the dread away.

Aware of the loss of warmth on her lap, Natasha opened her eyes and squinted at her squatting partner. "We near?"

Clint looked up to see an awake Natasha. "Yeah, less than ten minutes out."

She nodded and rubbed absently at her bump again, silently soothing the growing baby inside. Clint stood up and set their bags to the back of the Quinjet. He walked back to his seat and buckled himself in to prepare for their landing.

* * *

The two agents approached the inconspicuous safe house on the outskirts of the Brazilian city. It was a two-storey building, the safe house on the second floor. They had climbed the stairs to reach the door of their new haven.

With two jam-packed carrier bags thrown across his shoulder, his bow and quiver across the other, Clint pressed his thumb against the red scanner. It turned a shade of green in response to his touch. The door opened immediately, welcoming the two agents into the abode.

Natasha scanned her eyes around the house as they stepped inside. "Homey," she broke the silence and dropped her duffel bag on the kitchen table.

"Not the worst," Clint admitted, shrugging his shoulders and planting the bags on the ground. They had encountered far worse safe houses in their day.

Natasha moved over to the fridge to find it fully stocked with a colourful variety of foods and cuisine. "This should keep us occupied for the next few days at least." She squealed with delight a moment later when she noticed one of the shelves packed with mangoes.

Natasha had developed a series of unusual cravings during the pregnancy, but her intense craving for mangoes garnered all the glory. She would wake up at all hours of the morning and tip-toe downstairs to root in the fridge and look for the reddish-yellow fruit to snack on.

Clint, woken by her absence, would usually find her chopping and tasting the orange flesh as she stood barefoot, illuminated by the night sky, with one of his oversized t-shirts on, hugging her in all the right places. It was a sight that Clint never wanted to forget.

"I told Lowell to tell whoever was setting up the safe house to ensure we had plenty of them handy," he admitted with a wide grin.

Natasha beamed back at her partner, grateful but not surprised about his thoughtfulness. Clint's most valuable feature were his eyes, alluding to his codename, and other than using them almost supernaturally in battle, he used them to notice things that not many people in the world would notice. He had a heightened sense of awareness at all times, eyes always scanning, searching, monitoring. The way that he observed subtle things like that made her heart flutter, and only deepened her love for him further.

Clint moved to the living room, inspecting the furniture and learning the general layout of the place. They had to get used to their new digs, unaware of how long they would be holed up there.

"I'm gonna contact SHIELD and let them know that we're here," Clint called from where he was skimming his fingers along the top of the blackened fireplace.

Natasha hummed approvingly, moving towards the bedroom to start unpacking their gear. She couldn't deny the feeling that they were more than likely here for the long haul. She just hoped the baby wouldn't arrive until they were ready.

* * *

_Stark Tower, 01:22am_

* * *

Tony sat in darkness, his face illuminated by the light of his laptop. He was nursing a glass of scotch in his hand as his eyes focused intently on the screen. The man was on a mission.

A figure appeared in the doorway of the lab. "What are you doing up?" Steve called from the door.

"Still trying to hack into those old Soviet files," Tony answered tiredly. His thorough search on Dixon and his crew had turned up nothing.

Steve moved over to peer at the screen. The flurry of files whipping across in a flash made his eyeballs dance. Even after a year, he was still getting used to the mind-boggling technology that surrounded him in Stark Tower. "Stark.."

"Fury could do with some reinforcements, right?" Tony interrupted the Captain's train of thought. "If not physical then technological."

Steve knew Tony was going to lose sleep over Clint's and Natasha's absence, whether he admitted to it or not. They were all worried about their team mate's safety since they were alerted to the threat. He figured Tony wouldn't be the only one who was going to lose sleep over it.

"They're going to be fine, Stark...even Barton said himself that Fury has his best men out there," he stated, pausing for moment to yawn tiredly. "If both Barton and Romanoff trust him with their lives and their baby's life then I think we should too."

"Well a little extra help wouldn't hurt anyone, right?" Tony responded confidently.

Steve nodded, acknowledging Tony's attempts to gain some leverage on the man pursuing their friends. He smiled faintly as he studied Tony's worn face.

"All right, it couldn't do any harm," he answered softly, turning to walk back towards the door.

He looked over his shoulder to sneak a peek at Tony before he left, the engineer's eyes still transfixed upon the screen. Tony always had a way of surprising the Captain, even now. Steve raised his eyes slightly, wondering how the couple in Brazil were finding their vacation.

* * *

_1 week later, Brazil Safe house, 16:39pm_

* * *

"Hey, I'm back!" Clint bellowed, entering the safe house with a bag of groceries in each hand.

"In here!" Natasha called from inside the bathroom. "Just out of the bath."

"Back a little better?" he called over his shoulder, unloading the items from the bags and stuffing them into the cupboards.

Over the past week, Clint had noticed Natasha grimacing slightly from time to time. When he inquired about her pained expressions, she brushed off his concern and told him that she could handle the recurring back ache. He knew that she was trying to downplay the pain so he suggested she take a bath to try and relieve it.

"Yeah, much better," she replied as she moved out of the bathroom to the bedroom, throwing on her navy dressing gown as she made her way to the bed. She sighed as it enveloped her with fresh clean warmth.

Wet curls falling over her shoulders, she reached for a discarded towel and began towelling her hair dry, rubbing vigorously. She sat down on the bed and pushed herself back until her head was resting against the headboard. She was reaching for a magazine on the night stand when another jolt in her belly occurred.

Almost taking the breath out of her, she sat up hastily and felt her enlarged bump. She untied the dressing gown and watched her exposed belly. She could see movement underneath the skin and her eyes widened at the sight. She felt another light nudge, jostling her distended abdomen, the activity stretching her skin slightly.

Butterflies began to perform somersaults in her stomach. She had felt a few elbow nudges and a few kicks here and there in earlier months but she had never spied the baby moving so outwardly like this before.

"Clint.." Natasha beckoned to him excitedly. "Look at this."

Clint made his way to the bedroom where Natasha was sitting up on the bed, back resting against the headboard. His eyes captured her own that were focused on her bare bump and suddenly his heart was in his mouth. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied, calming his tone. "Here, watch this." She motioned for him to come forward, to witness the baby's activity in her womb.

Clint approached cautiously, not sure of what to expect. He eyed her bump, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. It was then he saw the subtle thump at the curve of her rounded belly. Eyes wide, Clint couldn't stop the smile that curled upon his face. "Whoa, we've got a live wire on our hands!" he bragged jovially, placing one of his hands where the movement was taking place.

"Something tells me he or she's taking after you," Natasha admitted. "Feels like they're performing acrobatics in there."

Clint chuckled in response and leaned over to kiss her head gently, inhaling her freshly shampooed waves. "You up for food yet?" he asked, eyes flitting to Natasha's face.

"Starving," she replied simply.

* * *

End of Chapter 3

Hope you guys are finding this okay!

Update soon :)


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: _I don't own any of the characters

Thanks to all following the story :)

* * *

_1 week later, Brazil Safe house, 19:17pm_

* * *

Natasha bustled out of the bathroom, her hair tied back in a loose bun with her hands pressed firmly against her back. Clint was laying lazily on the bed, reading a book.

"Has the eighth attempt in the last hour finally emptied that bladder of yours?" he scoffed playfully. Natasha glared at her partner relaxing on the bed.

"Kidding...kidding," Clint held up his hands in passive surrender, amused by her reaction.

"My bladder has now replaced my ribs as target practice for our baby," Natasha informed him flatly. "I'm glad you find this amusing, Barton."

"Amusing yes, but I'm sympathetic towards your plight," he added with a grin. He resumed his reading and Natasha made her way out to the kitchen and walked over to the sink.

Clint pulled his eyes from his book and watched Natasha scurry by the door, over and back, sporadically every few minutes. Each time she held something different in her hands, a dish cloth one minute, a stack of newspapers the next.

He sighed and jumped up from the bed, tossing the book on the creased sheets. He cracked his neck from side to side as he walked over to the door leading out to the kitchen. He folded his arms and leaned against the frame. "What are you doing?" he asked, eyes perplexed.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she asked incredulously. "Cleaning up the mess in here!"

"The place looks fine, Nat."

"Clint, in case you haven't noticed, we've been here for two weeks with no word that the threat has been neutralised so I'm doing a bit of spring cleaning to occupy my mind. We need to get this place ready, in case...in case.." she stuttered uncharacteristically, wiping her forward in frustration. She turned her back on Clint to face the sink.

"All right, all right," he repeated, in an attempt to calm her. He stepped over to her and hugged her back, curling his hands around her waist and planting them around her bump. He pushed his head past her red curls to place his chin between her shoulder and neck. A moment lingered and then Clint spoke. "I think it's called nesting," he whispered playfully into her ear.

"What is?" she asked, inclining her head to the left.

"All of this..what you're doing."

"Nesting? Isn't that your specialty, Hawkeye?" she asked with a wide grin, emphasis placed on his codename. "You always had a habit of making those nests in all of our SHIELD bases," she added, her mind flitting to way back when they used to escape Fury's bellows like lovesick teenagers.

"Hey, I never heard you complain when we used my "nests" to get some privacy in those bases," he laughed lightly.

"Who said I was complaining?" she purred invitingly, rotating her body to face Clint. He moved his hands to encircle her, her bump snuggled between them.

"We made some good memories in those nests, didn't we?" he asked, his eyes showing a glint of nostalgia.

A beat resounded for a moment.

"Yeah, we did," she responded softly. She leaned in and pressed her lips to Clint's own. They stood there for a few moments, leaning against the counter, tasting each other, reliving some of their flirtatious escapades.

Clint pulled away gradually and reached into his pocket for his phone. "I'm gonna call SHIELD and get the low down on what's been going on with Dixon's crew."

Natasha nodded mutely, her eyes following her partner as he made his way into the bedroom once again.

* * *

_"How's she doing?"_ Fury asked, no obvious sign of worry in his voice.

"She's holding up, sir," Clint answered. "So you're hoping to have us out of here and on US soil in a couple of days?"

_"I can't promise anything, Barton, but we're optimistic,"_ Fury replied with a more softened tone. _"You'll be getting a visitor tomorrow morning...__We're sending out one of SHIELD's doctors to_ _have a look at Romanoff and see how everything is with the pregnancy...Be ready for their arrival."_

Clint nodded, absorbing his orders. "Understood, sir."

With that, the line went dead.

* * *

_Stark Tower, 22:28pm_

* * *

Bruce Banner had been working in one of Stark's labs when Jarvis announced the arrival of Maria Hill. The AI informed him that he was the one she was paying a visit to. Bruce moved away from his workbench and greeted Hill as she entered the lab. "Agent Hill, what can I do for you?"

"Director Fury is asking a favour of you."

Bruce cocked his head, wondering what on the earth the leather-clad Director could want now. "A favour?" he took a few steps back and removed his spectacles, intrigued by her words.

"He has requested that you go to Manaus," she reported mechanically.

Bruce's eyes met Maria's with a worried glare, immediately knowing what this conversation was really about. "What's wrong with Barton and Romanoff?"

"Nothing as of yet.." she paused, "They need a doctor to check out Romanoff and the baby, just to be clear."

Bruce had tended to many births while keeping his cover in Calcutta before he was approached by Natasha and persuaded to help SHIELD with the Tesseract crisis. He also was aware of Natasha's health stats while living in Stark Tower together for the past year.

Bruce paused for a moment, grateful that the two assassins were okay but puzzled by his part in the equation. "I'm willing to go, of course, but can I ask, why me?" Bruce questioned the agent. "SHIELD's got plenty of capable doctors on hand, don't they?"

Maria nodded, "Fury requested that you be the one to go." Her authoritative tone dropped, "Something about allowing them to see a friendly face after so long."

Bruce nodded, understanding Fury's reasoning. He could almost imagine the two assassins already going stir crazy while holed up in the safe house for so long. "When do I leave?"

"Tomorrow morning," she answered simply before bidding her goodbyes and exiting the lab.

* * *

End of Chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: _I don't own any of the characters.

Thanks for the reviews :D

* * *

_Brazil Safe house, 05:34am_

* * *

Natasha was woken by a muffled thump that filled her ears all of a sudden. Her eyes bolted open and an eerie feeling encircled her. She shivered slightly as she sat up in the bed.

It wasn't a craving that had begun nagging her. She tried to cast her mind back to why she had woken in the first place. Her eyes widened in alarm when she realised she had heard something coming from the living room next door.

She looked down to spy Clint, who was laying on his belly with his face buried in his pillow, one arm snuggled around it, the other resting lazily to his left side. She nudged him hard into his exposed ribs. "Clint.." she whispered quickly, rousing him from his deep slumber.

"Huh?" he murmured, squinting at the blurred image of red curls. His vision soon cleared and he could almost feel Natasha's piercing glare bite into him. Rising immediately, he reached for the gun beneath his pillow and clicked the safety off. He knew her face indicated that there was some clear danger near and he forced his startled muscles to awaken and co-operate as he leapt out of the bed.

Natasha drew her own weapon from under her pillow, a deadly blade, wielding it in front of her.

The location of their weapons proved that they couldn't afford to become complacent when they settled into their temporary home. They always had to be prepared for a threat.

"We expecting anybody?" she whispered, her tone sharp, her head inclining towards the living room door.

"I don't think Fury intended that doctor to be this early," Clint replied, his voice rumbling quietly. He moved away from the bed, settling into a stance, preparing to fire. His bow and quiver were over by the curtain clad window. He moved towards it, placed the gun on the window ledge, and snatched his favourite weapon off the ground. He placed the quiver over his shoulder, nocking an arrow in one fluid motion.

After all, he's not at his best with a gun.

Eyes planted on the door, he cocked his head, motioning Natasha to head in to the bathroom and take cover. She hesitated for a split second, not wanting to leave Clint but deciding that she had another life to think about in this situation. She moved stealthily into the bathroom, leaving the door open slightly so she had a visual on Clint.

Clint moved slowly and silently towards the door, sliding beside it's frame, waiting for something to happen. Moments passed and he could hear faint movements through the wall. Without warning, the door slammed open, revealing two black combat clad men brandishing guns.

Clint moved as they fired their silenced bullets towards the bed, embedding themselves into each of the pillows. The hailing stopped and Clint took his chance to retaliate. He let his nocked arrow sail and it buried itself in the neck of one of the assailants. The man dropped a second later, crimson spurting on his collar. The second man fired his weapon in response but Clint moved hastily to avoid the onslaught. He charged the man, knocking him to the ground in a flurry.

The gun disengaged from the man's grip and skimmed across the floor. The man writhed underneath Clint as they both struggled for dominance. The man lashed out, catching Clint mercilessly across the temple. The archer's vision swam for a moment but he soon gained the upper hand and planted his knees on the man's arms, his weight crushing them into the ground. He pulled another arrow from his quiver and aimed it at the man's eyeball.

"Where's Dixon?" Clint spat.

The man was silent, his face a blank canvas. Clint leaned his weight a little more on the man's arms, crushing them further into the cold ground. He inched forward a little, the arrow almost brushing the man's eyelashes.

"Where's Dixon?" he repeated with even more distaste. The man remained steadfast, his icy eyes unmoving.

Clint loosened the arrow and it buried itself deep in the man's eye socket. He never heard the man's screams as he got up and made his way into the room the assailants had entered through, ensuring that there were no more surprises in store. Satisfied, he moved back into the bedroom, setting his quiver and bow at the foot of the bed.

He pushed the bathroom door slightly and found Natasha sitting on the tiled floor, to the left of the sink, her knees pulled up slightly and her hands clutching her abdomen. Her eyes raised to meet Clint's.

"You okay?" he asked, voice full of concern.

"Yeah, we're fine," she nodded, skimming a hand over the bump. "You?" she asked, scanning Clint's sweaty face, eyes moving to the pinkish mark on his temple. It would soon turn a shade of purple.

"Yeah, they're dead."

Natasha reached up to brush his abused temple, her fingers skimming over his skin lightly. "We've got to move.."

Clint took in her night clothes and dishevelled appearance. She still managed to look beautiful under the stress. "Get dressed and pack what we need." He paused, thinking. "I'm gonna contact SHIELD and see what the hell's going on."

She made her way to the bedroom, dressed hurriedly, grabbed a rucksack and threw in some essentials they would need for the time being until SHIELD evacuated them. She spotted a flare gun, a woollen blanket, and a torch as she scurried around the safe house. Her hands shook slightly, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

Clint moved to the kitchen and pulled on a black t-shirt and his SHIELD jacket that had been laying across the back of a chair. He found his combat boots and trousers and began pulling them on as he started to type in the appropriate numbers to patch in a line to SHIELD Headquarters.

He was about to punch in the last two digits when movement caught his left eye, causing his chest to tighten suddenly. He spied another two men, guns drawn, dressed in the same get-up the men on the floor with arrows sprouting out of them wore. Their feet were dropping to land on the ledge to the right of the kitchen window. He stuffed the phone into the waistband of his trousers and turned to head into the bedroom.

Clint grabbed his bow and quiver and moved to latch onto Natasha's arm, cocking his head to the kitchen, silently informing her of the new invaders. She looked at him in alarm but understood wordlessly what he meant. She tossed a couple of water bottles into the pack, slid her arms through the handles and followed Clint as he led her through to the living room.

He stopped at the window, inspecting the ground outside and unlatched it, pushing the frame out as far as it would go into the morning air. The crisp breeze hit them, the sky illuminated by the faint morning sunlight.

Clint guided Natasha out of the window and she stepped out onto the ledge. She turned and spotted the fire escape to her right. She moved sideways along the ledge and stretched her arm to reach for the bar to pull herself up onto. Clint followed her out onto the ledge, quiver on his back, and waited for her to latch on to the bar.

Natasha hesitated for a moment. Her vision tilted and she was light-headed all of a sudden. She blinked, her eyelids shuddering slightly, trying to keep her mind focused on the task at hand. Clint noticed her falter and reached forward to grab her as she suddenly slipped off the ledge.

* * *

End of Chapter 5

Sorry for the little cliffhanger...!

Hope you guys still enjoying it :)


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own any of the characters.

Thanks for the reviews..:)

* * *

Clint suddenly jerked forward, his right hand locking around her forearm, causing his muscles to strain to hold onto her. "Nat!" he rasped urgently, trying to snap her back to reality. When her whole body went limp, he realised she had passed out.

As he struggled to support both their weight, the phone began slipping out of the waistband of his pants. His mind automatically chose between salvaging himself and his partner or salvaging the communicator, and it tumbled to the hard ground, smashing into a dozen pieces. He hoped the resounding crash wouldn't draw attention to themselves.

Pain blitzed his biceps and burned the muscles in his right shoulder. Old injuries were beginning to make themselves known as he struggled. Realising he hadn't much time until his arm wrenched out of it's socket, Clint attempted to rouse her again. "NATASHA!"

Her body tensed abruptly, rigid as a board. She finally regained consciousness, his voice pulling her from her impromptu slumber. She raised her head to find Clint's reddened face staring at her own, worried eyes boring into her.

Relief washed over Clint and he instructed her to brace herself. He swung her body, allowing her to reach for one of the bars, pull herself in and land on the floor of fire escape. Her feet landed with a soft thud and she turned to see Clint reach out and grab the bar to swing himself in and settle beside her.

"I don't know what happened there," she admitted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "One minute I was fine, the next minute I was in La La land."

"Your blood pressure's probably a little low," Clint spoke softly, rotating his sore shoulder to get the muscles to re-adjust. "I'm betting that's what caused you to pass out," he added, fixing his quiver and bow on his back.

Natasha nodded in agreement. She remembered Bruce mentioning something about light-headedness and wavering blood pressure when she visited him and Tony in the lab one evening. He told her it was paramount to keep an eye on her blood pressure throughout the pregnancy. She guessed that Clint had listened in on that conversation. From that day on, Bruce always made sure to check it every few weeks to ensure everything was fine.

"We need to keep going," Clint suddenly piped up, snapping her back to present time.

They swiftly made their way down the fire escape and hurried into the surrounding forest to conceal themselves from their attackers.

* * *

_Brazil Safe house, 07:14am_

* * *

Bruce moved to exit the rumbling Quinjet, a bag of medical supplies hanging off his shoulder. The sun had risen now and was coating his face, causing him to squint slightly as he stepped off the ramp. He walked a distance towards the seemingly empty building and used a swipe card to open the first floor door. He ventured up the stairs and approached Clint's and Natasha's door. He pressed his thumb against the hint of red on the scanner, granting him access as it turned green.

He stepped inside and immediately got the eerie feeling that something was wrong. There was half a mango sliced on a chopping board beside the sink.

_Natasha._

He had remembered Clint letting Tony know to order mangoes in bulk as soon as Natasha was five months along.

There was a stack of newspapers on the couch, all read thoroughly by Clint, he guessed. He ventured further into the safe house, eyes scanning everything as he progressed. He approached the bedroom door and knocked lightly on the wood, hoping that he wouldn't interrupt the two assassins enjoying an intimate moment. Hearing no response, he made up his mind and turned the handle, allowing him access into the room. His eyes searched for their familiar faces but they never appeared. His gaze was drawn to two separate puddles of blood over by the living room door. His heart leapt in his chest, the Other Guy threatening to unleash, making his presence known in Bruce's consciousness. He willed his nerves to calm and immediately reached for the phone tucked in his chest pocket.

"It's Banner, get me Fury," Bruce demanded, his voice uneasy. His eyes now searched the entire room intricately and he noticed the bullet holes in the pillows on the bed.

"_Fury,_" Fury's voiced boomed down the line.

"The safe house has been compromised. Natasha and Clint are gone. There's blood and bullet holes in the bedroom," Bruce blew out all in one breath.

"_Shit_," Fury cursed, concern in his delivery.

Bruce could almost imagine Fury's scowl as he spat the word. "What's the plan?"

"_We find them_," Fury stated, voice hard and threatening.

* * *

_Somewhere in the Amazon Rainforest, 08:33am_

* * *

"We'll rest here for a little while, regroup, get our heads in check," Clint rambled, eyes scrutinizing their surroundings. They had been walking for nearly three hours now, the sun belting their skin as they pushed on.

Clint figured they had escaped Dixon's crew for now, but kept his guard up, always anticipating another attack. They had come upon a small stream of water, the fluid glinting in the morning sun. He squatted down beside it and dipped his fingers in, creating soft ripples. He ran a hand down his face, attempting to wash away the perspiration and cool his skin.

Natasha squatted beside him, her face and neck also displaying a thin layer of sweat. Her chest heaved slightly as she mimicked his actions.

"You all right?" he asked, voice laced with concern.

"Define 'all right'," she scoffed lightly, her lips curling into a faint smile.

Clint smiled uneasily in return. "That phone would have really come in handy right now," he pined, cursing inwardly for allowing himself to drop it. He knew he couldn't have stopped it but that didn't mean he didn't blame himself for its descent.

Natasha laughed lightly, seeing the lighter side of their situation. She slid the rucksack off her back and unzipped it to reveal the water bottles. "Here, have a swig," she offered, motioning one of the bottles towards Clint.

"Yes ma'am," he responded with a grin, accepting the bottle and pressing it to his chapped lips. He gulped greedily, drinking in the glorious liquid. Natasha took a drink from another.

"Okay, ready to move?" Clint announced, standing up to adjust his quiver and bow, preparing to go.

"Yeah, let's- " Natasha's voice suddenly cut off and Clint spun his head around and took in his partner's appearance. She was bent over slightly, her head lowered with a hand skimming the inside of her thighs.

"Clint.." she breathed out, her voice shaky. "I..I think my water just broke," she revealed, her hand coated in the clear liquid.

Clint's gut twisted, almost sucking the life out of him. The infamous words he thought he'd been prepared to hear left him reeling and winded like he'd been punched in the stomach.

_Great timing buddy._

* * *

End of Chapter 6

Hope you guys are ready for the next chapter..:)


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: _I don't own any of the characters.

Enjoy ;)

* * *

"Clint.." Natasha repeated, her eyes searching for some reaction from her partner.

Her voice refocused his thoughts and he blinked forcefully. "You're sure?" he asked, raising his eyebrows, disbelief laced in his tone.

"Pretty sure," she confirmed, examining her hand. A wet stain was now spreading down the cloth of her trousers.

Clint bolted into action, gathering the rucksack at her feet and slinging it over his shoulder, jostling the quiver and bow still resting against his back. He grabbed Natasha's arm as he prepared to scurry off further into the rainforest.

"Barton!"

Her voice penetrated his dizzy mind. He released her arm and turned back to where she had stopped in her tracks, motionless.

She moved forward to cup his face with her hands. "This could take hours, okay?" she spoke, voice soothing. "I'm not having contractions yet so I need you to keep calm. The last thing I want is you running around like a headless chicken.."

Natasha knew it wasn't like him to lose his head like that, but under the circumstances she could understand his gut reaction to their dilemma.

"Okay, sorry..sorry," he apologised, placing his hands over her own that were framing his face. "We're gonna get through this, all right?"

His tone ignited a new confidence in her. If Clint believed they would be okay, then she whole-heartedly believed it. She kissed him lightly, her lips caressing his.

"Let's go," he spoke as they ventured further through the dense foliage.

* * *

_Warehouse basement, Munich, Germany, September 2008_

* * *

_Natasha could hear a faint voice calling her name. She willed her eyelids to open but they wouldn't respond to her brains commands. The voice was approaching, the volume rising._

_"Romanoff!" Coulson roared, his voice finally reaching her consciousness. __She opened her eyes and fixed them onto the man's face in front of her, his hands cupping her jaw, shaking her head slightly._

_"There we go...look who's back with us." He smiled weakly, fear flashing across his eyes._

_Natasha smiled softly, her body only managing that. She attempted to sit forward but stopped when pain flared down her arm and through her hand. Someone was trying to remove the chains encircling her wrists. The agony in her wrist coupled with the pain emitting from her ribs soon brought her out of her stupor._

_"Hey, we're getting you both out of here, all right?...Just keep those eyes on me, Romanoff."_

_Natasha nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on Coulson's pupils. Movement from behind his head caught her eye, sending a surge of panic through her. She moved her head slightly to take in the sight._

_Clint had been freed from his chains and was currently being swarmed by countless SHIELD officials. All she could see was his head. His eyelids were sealed shut and his face was deathly pale. The rest of his body was submerged by the medical team rushing to get him stable. He lay limply on the ground, his body completely lax._

_"Coulson.." Natasha started, swallowing thickly. Her mouth was dry, her throat like sandpaper. It was getting hard to breathe. __"Will he be okay?" she rasped, her voice as quiet as a mouse._

_Coulson knew exactly who she was referring to. He followed Natasha's line of sight and turned his head to get a look at the fallen archer on the ground. The pool of blood that surrounded Clint's body made him sick. He fought back the bile that was rising in his throat._

_"Yeah, he's going to be fine, Romanoff...Barton isn't going anywhere without both our say so," he responded with a comforting grin._

_Natasha smiled in return, thankful for Coulson's calming presence. He had come for them, just like Clint had said. __She heard a resounding clang and a weightlessness suddenly enveloped her. __Blackness encroached her vision and then both Clint and Coulson's faces disappeared._

* * *

_Amazon Rainforest, Present day, 12:04pm_

* * *

"Nat...Hey Nat?"

Sweat beads lined Natasha's hairline as she breathed through what remained of another crushing contraction. Chest heaving, she focused her eyes on the archer who had stopped to crouch in front of her.

They had been walking for what seemed like an eternity, the sun beating mercilessly on their sweat infused flesh. "Barton, I don't think we've much time left," she breathed out wearily, keeping note of the frequency of her contractions.

"All right, okay...don't panic..we just need to find some shelter so we can rest," Clint responded calmly, attempting to soothe her growing anxiety. He took her hand in his own and caressed his thumb against her soft skin.

Another contraction reared it's head and Natasha scrunched her eyes together in an effort to mask her pain. She squeezed the hand that Clint had offered.

"Hey, just breathe through it, okay?...keep breathing," Clint coached, turning his head to scan their surroundings. He craned his neck to see beyond the dense jungle forestry. "We need to keep moving."

Natasha nodded silently, rising to her feet and keeping a firm grip on Clint's reassuring hand. She followed him as he led the way through the exotic flora.

* * *

Minutes passed and Clint spied a hollow crevice in the distance, craning his neck to get a better visual.

"Is that a cave?" he said as he turned to look at his exhausted partner.

Natasha looked up, straining her eyes to see what he was referring to. "Looks like it, yeah," she agreed.

Clint pulled on her hand and they walked briskly toward the gloomy cavity. He halted their movements before they entered. He lay his quiver and bow on the ground beside her feet.

"I'm gonna have a look in, scope out the place to see if it's...suitable," he said, choosing his words carefully.

"Suitable?...suitable for what?...for me to give birth in?" she asked incredulously, finding it hard to believe the inevitable.

"Nat, I'm doing the best I can with what we have, okay?" he replied with a sigh.

He knew she was running out of time.

"I know you are...I'm just angry that this is the way it's gonna happen...It shouldn't be like this.." her voice trailed off, her mind flitting back to their experience in the safe house.

He stepped towards her and cupped her face in his hands. It was his turn to do the calming. "I know, I know...but we just have to make do." He paused and smiled, "The little guy wants to make an appearance whether we like it or not."

"Little guy or girl," Natasha corrected. Clint grinned and turned to enter the cave.

Natasha waited outside and leaned her head against the rocky surface her back was pressed to. A flurry of thoughts danced wildly in her mind. She was terrified about the baby's health and the forthcoming birth. She mentally prepared herself for what the next few hours would hold and drew her eyes to her bulging abdomen.

"Keep fighting, sweetheart," she whispered, a tender prayer on her lips. She heard footsteps to her left approaching and turned to see Clint exiting the cave minus the rucksack on his back.

"Okay, it's dry and dark but it should hold us up for the time being."

Natasha nodded once and moved to where Clint was standing.

"We've got a torch, a flare gun, a few water bottles and a blanket," he listed. "We should be fine if we just keep calm and let nature take it's course."

"Let nature take it's course?...How very eloquent, Barton," she responded sarcastically.

Clint chuckled in response to her remark and moved to pick up his quiver and bow, slinging them over his shoulder. He held out his hand to support her as they ventured into their improvised shelter.

* * *

End of Chapter 7

I know I'm evil for leaving it there...but I want it to be a realistic enough portrayal! :)


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: _I don't own any of the characters.

You guys are hilarious..a few of the reviews made me giggle :)

**Warning**: Birth scene coming right up so any of ye with weak stomachs, I suggest ye skip this chapter. And I know a cave isn't the most appropriate place to give birth in but I thought it would be interesting to see how they would adapt to their situation.

Enjoy the chapter :)

* * *

Minutes passed and Natasha felt another contraction grip her.

Clint placed her forearms on his shoulders so she could brace herself against him as she breathed heavily through the waves of agony. Her pained breathing and strangled groans tormented him, slicing into him like a hot knife. He would gladly volunteer for any amount of torture or several rounds of water-boarding if it meant it would take away her pain. He felt so helpless, whispering pathetic words of encouragement into her ear, trying to offer his support, hoping it would comfort her.

She audibly groaned and pressed her forehead against Clint's chest.

"We're almost there, Nat...keep breathing." He mimicked her exhaling and inhaling, trying to soothe her agony.

"Clint...I need to sit down," Natasha finally blew out with a forceful breath as the contraction slowly receded, giving her time to catch her breath.

"Just a few more steps." He directed her towards a little makeshift nest in the corner of the cave, lit up by the torch tucked into a fissure in the wall. The woollen blanket lay flat on the cave's floor.

To any other person the inside of the cave looked like the furthest thing from a delivery suite, but to Natasha it was like an oasis in a desert. Something her body and mind had pleaded for since they escaped Dixon's army. They could rest here, hopefully undisturbed, and welcome their new addition to the world.

"Not bad, hey?" Clint eyed Natasha's weary face. "It was my turn to do the nesting this time," he laughed.

"It's perfect," she replied, her eyes revealing her relief at the dimly lit sanctuary.

"Let's get you down." Clint moved to ease her gently to the blanket, supporting her back, as she gladly lowered her body onto the blanket. He removed his weapons from his back and placed them on the ground beside the blanket.

"Contractions coming fast and hard, yeah?" he asked, eyes scanning Natasha's perspiring features.

She nodded and shifted slightly to get into a more comfortable position. "I need to get these off," she said, indicating to her cargo pants.

"Right, yeah.." Clint sat up on his hunkers, helping Natasha undo her boots and strip her trousers off her legs. Suddenly aware that this was really happening, he stiffened, his wide-eyed expression fixed upon Natasha's form.

She was sat on their makeshift bed, her hair dishevelled, dangling off her shoulders, her legs parted with her hands placed behind her knees under her thighs. To say he was unequivocally terrified was an understatement. He swallowed visibly, willing his nerves to subside.

"Barton!" Natasha suddenly snapped at his unmoving state.

"What?" Clint answered back, pulling himself from his deep thoughts. He got the feeling that it wasn't the first time she had beckoned his name.

"You ready for this?" she blew out another ragged breath.

Clint gathered himself together and settled his nerves. "I...I think so, you?"

"No!" she admitted suddenly. "We're lost in the middle of nowhere..we have no medical supplies..we've absolutely no help, and I'm about to give birth!" Her voice broke at the final word.

"Hey! Hey, calm down! We're gonna be fine...that includes our little hawk or black widow in there," Clint pointed to Natasha's prominent bump. "We're gonna get through this, just like we did in Munich, in Budapest and in all those other places where our missions were shot to hell...We made it through then and we're gonna make it through now, okay?" he reassured. "We're Hawkeye and Black Widow, SHIELD's most successful partnership in history...Trust me, Natasha..We can do this."

Natasha blinked and focused in on Clint's comforting eyes. Her lips curved upwards into a faint smile. Clint reached for her hand and brought it up to his lips. He kissed the inside of her palm and then held her hand in his own, allowing her to use it to try and block out the oncoming pain.

Another contraction travelled through her body and a guttural cry escaped her lips.

Eyes locked on hers, Clint visibly swallowed and looked down. He kneeled in front of her, settling himself into a more comfortable position. "Nat, I'm gonna have a look and see where we are here."

Natasha nodded swiftly, seeking purchase in the material of Clint's SHIELD jacket as his head bent down between her legs. Clint narrowed his eyes, focusing on Natasha's breathing and the appearance of the apex of her thighs. A slight bulge was forming around her opening, but there was no sign of a head emerging yet.

"Keep breathing, Nat...just keep breathing...in and out, in and out," Clint coached her as an additional contraction came in full force. Natasha bit her lip and focused on keeping her breathing even.

Clint raised his eyes and smiled reassuringly. "Okay, I think the head's engaged...looks like we're gonna have a baby soon." Natasha pursed her lips and blew in and out, trying to breathe through the throes.

"Just follow your body's cues..if you feel the urge to push then bear down and push through the next contraction," Clint said as he reached up and pushed a dampened curl behind Natasha's ear.

She nodded her response, closing her eyes for a moment. She could feel the next contraction building in her lower back. Opening her eyes, she focused on Clint's blue-grey eyes. "Clint, it's coming, I can feel it.." she blew out, preparing herself to push.

"I'm here, Nat, I'm right here with you," he responded soothingly. His face was also covered in a layer of sweat, his hands trembling slightly in response to the surge of adrenaline pumping through his veins.

She groaned against the pain in her lower half and pushed through the contraction as it hit.

"Bear down, Nat...yeah, that's it, bear down." He could see the top of the baby's head emerging. The mop of hair signalling it's arrival was imminent. Natasha let out a pained grunt and pushed until the wave dissipated. She could feel white-hot burning as the baby's head finally emerged.

"Okay, head's out, Nat...the head's out," Clint's voice stated, eliciting a relieved sigh. Natasha lay back for a moment, trying to catch her breath and focus on anything but the burning pain.

"I need to...I need.." Clint hesitated.

"What?..What's wrong?" she cried, her voice hoarse from exertion. Her exhausted eyes were etched with worry, half-filled with tears.

"Nothing's wrong!" Clint cried, looking up, trying to calm her down. "I just need something to wrap the baby in when it comes out, that's all."

"Your jacket?" Natasha suggested, blowing out a breath, eyeing the black jacket that he was wearing.

He looked to his right side, and spotted the SHIELD logo imprinted on the shoulder. "Perfect," he said through a smile.

She watched him briskly unzip the jacket and slip it off his shoulders, revealing his grey t-shirt, stuck to his skin with perspiration. He brought the warm material to rest in front of Natasha, where he could see the baby's head still emerging.

"All right, Nat, this is it...you ready?" he paused, inhaling deeply. "Next few minutes we're going to have our little hawk or black widow with us." Clint focused on his partner's eyes and gave her a quick wink before reaching forward to support the baby's head. "You're gonna need to give me a little push first to deliver the shoulders, and while that's happening I need you to pant, okay?"

Natasha nodded slowly, listening for her body's cue and waiting for the urge to push. She breathed in and pushed against the building pain.

"That's it, Nat, good girl..push.." Clint coached her through her audible groans and cries. Feeling the baby rotate, he inched closer to guide the shoulders out. Natasha curled her fingers around Clint's left arm in an effort to block out the unbearable pain.

"Okay Nat, pant...pant now, keep panting," he guided her, hearing her ragged gasps. He flickered his eyes up to her fatigue-ridden face. "Almost there.." Natasha's staccato pants penetrated the air as Clint put his hands around the baby's shoulders and guided them as they finally slipped out, along with the rest of it's body.

Wailing erupted between Natasha's legs and relief swelled in both Clint's and Natasha's hearts.

"We have a girl, Natasha...We have a little girl!" Clint announced, joy mixed with disbelief in his voice. He looked up to his exhausted partner, her eyes wet, tears flooding down her face.

"Look, look..here she is..." Clint carefully wrapped the squirming figure in his jacket and lifted her up to meet an exhausted Natasha.

With outstretched arms, Natasha embraced the pink bundle into her chest. The baby continued it's uncontrolled sobbing but the volume soon lowered when Natasha's warmth encircled her little body. "Clint...look at her," she cried as she held her newborn daughter for the first time.

Eyes closed, mouth open, the pink figure swaddled against Natasha's chest fisted her hand and brought it towards her mouth.

"Hey baby girl," Natasha whispered, face still wet from tears.

Clint moved to sit beside his partner, pulling his left arm around her shoulders, and reached to place his right index finger into the newborn's open palm. The baby instinctively closed her fist, holding onto her Daddy's finger in a death grip. "Whoa, some strength she has there," Clint laughed.

Natasha laughed in response, lowering her head to plant her lips to the top of the baby's auburn hair. "She's perfect, isn't she?" Natasha commented, looking up to find Clint's eyes locked on her own.

"Yeah...yeah she is."

Natasha stretched her neck to the side to brush her lips against Clint's own. She smiled widely at her rock, her personal superhero, her Hawk. She inhaled sweetly, savouring the moment, elation beaming through her every pore.

* * *

End of Chapter 8

Awwwh...how sweet..!Baby Blackhawk finally made her long-awaited appearance! I hope some of you didn't throw up in the middle of all that...If you did, I sincerely apologise..;) hahaha


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: _ I don't own any of the characters.

Thanks for the reviews!

In response to _Precious93_ : You'll see in this chapter that I didn't forget the cord! The position that Natasha was in during the birth would have allowed her to hold the baby even though the cord had not been cut yet! Sorry for not making it clear enough! You're a star for noticing though...thanks for keeping me on my toes! :)

**Warning:** A few words about the placenta and stuff but nothing too gory.

Enjoy.. :)

* * *

Minutes had passed and Clint had checked Natasha to see that everything was okay and she wasn't bleeding too heavily following the birth. "I think we're okay for now..how are you feeling?..any light-headedness?" he asked, eyes concerned.

"I feel fine, just a tad tired that's all."

"Here, take a drink." Clint handed her one of the water bottles, the cap already opened for her. Natasha kept their newborn cradled in her right arm, against her chest as she took a swig.

Clint reached up to feel the umbilical cord. "Cord's still pulsating...we need something to tie it off if we're gonna be here all night."

Just as Clint's words left his mouth, his attention turned to the opening of the cave. A distant rhythmic chopping noise enveloped Clint's and Natasha's ears. Clint sprang to his feet, his mind alert and ready. He looked at Natasha and his gaze drooped down to their sleeping child. He manoeuvred Natasha's discarded trousers to rest over her bare legs to keep her warm while he was away. "I'm gonna check it out," he said, grabbing his bow and quiver. He tucked the flare gun from the pack into the waistband of his pants.

"Be careful," Natasha mouthed as he ran stealthily towards the opening.

Nail-biting moments passed as Natasha waited for Clint's return. She listened attentively, tuning her ears to the noises coming from the outside of the cave. She could hear Clint shouting in the distance and then the flare gun was released. Red light masked the opening of the cave and the rhythmic whooshing noise came closer. She recognised the noise immediately as it descended.

She spotted a figure at the mouth of the cave and focused her eyes on the statuesque figure running towards them, a man not of Clint's height. She instinctively covered the newborn's body in an effort to protect her from the approaching intruder.

The mysterious figure's features became visible once he stepped closer and she sighed in relief as she was greeted by none other than Steve Rogers.

"Cavalry's here," he stated with a warm smile. He glanced down to look at the bundle swaddled in the SHIELD jacket. "Romanoff...Congratulations." He couldn't stop the wide smile forming on his face.

"Thanks, Cap," she replied softly, her voice a weak whisper.

"Bruce!" Steve bellowed towards the entrance, instructing the Doctor to make his long-awaited appearance.

Bruce came cowering in, mindful of the enclosed space. His eyes lit up when they landed on Natasha's face. He was overjoyed to see her alive and with a baby in her arms. "Romanoff, how's everything going?" He knelt down beside her and took her wrist in his hand, placing his index and middle finger on her radial pulse. He nodded after a minute and took in the presence of the new arrival. "How's the little one?" he asked, peering at the pudgy face surrounded by Clint's jacket.

"Fine..she's fine," Natasha responded proudly.

"She?" Bruce and Steve said in unison, surprise etched in their voices.

"Yeah, I hope you guys are willing to have another girl on the team," she replied with a soft chuckle. Both gentlemen beamed, both more than willing to accept the new addition.

Natasha raised the back of her hand to her mouth as she began to yawn. Bruce took a penlight out of his pocket and began to check her pupils. Keeping his eyes focused on Natasha, he called to the Captain behind him, "Steve, you can let the medical team in now." Rogers took off in a flash and headed for the exit.

"Where's Clint?" Natasha asked, suddenly aware of his lengthy absence.

"He's fine, he's outside informing Stark and the medical team of the events."

"Stark's here too?" she inquired half surprised, half annoyed.

"Yeah, he insisted that he come along and rescue you guys...suit and all," Bruce answered with an eye roll.

Natasha laughed lightly and watched Bruce carry out his little observations on the baby. He placed his hands on the newborn's chest, checking her temperature. He then placed his index finger and middle finger on her brachial artery, just on the crease of her tiny arm.

"No placenta yet?" he inquired, spotting the uncut cord.

"No, not yet...she's still attached, Clint didn't want to cut the cord without..." her voice trailed off into a whisper. She blinked heavily, trying to overcome the creeping fatigue.

Noting her tiredness, Bruce pushed forward with conversation. "Hey, Natasha, tell me how ye got here?"

Natasha looked up to meet his keen eyes. "How we got to the cave or how we ended up with this bundle?" she replied, inclining her head to the sleeping baby. Bruce chuckled lightly, amused by her words.

It only seemed like yesterday that Natasha revealed she was pregnant to the team while they were all seated in the sitting room of Stark Tower. It certainly had been a quick nine months as they all waited in bated breath for their new arrival.

Bruce's mind flitted back to the dread he felt when he entered their breached safe house earlier this morning. He coughed, clearing his throat. "I was sent to the safe house this morning to check up on the two of you," he revealed, cocking his head towards Natasha and the baby. "I alerted Fury about the break in and told him ye were missing." He paused for a moment, sucking in a breath, "We thought ye were dead, Natasha." His voice lowered into a faint whisper.

Natasha took note of his tormented expression. It reminded her of the time he revealed his suicide attempt to the team while on the Helicarrier over a year ago. She coughed a little to clear her dry throat. "Bruce, thank you...we owe you one," she replied with a grateful smile. Bruce smiled softly in return and turned his head to see the approaching SHIELD team led by Clint.

Clint crouched down beside Natasha and took her free hand in his. "Told you we'd get through this," he teased playfully.

"Yeah, you did...thanks by the way," she sighed. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

Clint smiled in response, "What are you talking about? You're the one who did all the work."

They both watched the medical team swarm around them as they worked to monitor Natasha's and the baby's vital signs. One of the medics clamped and cut the newborn's cord and Natasha handed the sleeping bundle to Clint.

Another medic spoke up, "All right Natasha, we need to deliver the placenta, okay?" Natasha nodded her head willingly and let the team do their work.

Bruce handed Clint a clean blanket to encase the baby in as another medic checked her breathing, heart rate and other observations. "She's doing brilliantly," Agent Lowell stated as she finished her observations. "Good job, Barton." Clint smiled sheepishly at the blonde-haired agent and focused his eyes on the newborn. He couldn't stop himself beaming from ear to ear.

Bruce couldn't help but notice Clint's flushed cheeks and glassy eyes as he stared down at his daughter. "Congrats Barton," he said, patting Clint on the shoulder.

"Thanks, Bruce."

Minutes later, Natasha had delivered the placenta without any complications and was carried through the cave on a stretcher, an IV line following as they moved her through.

Tony, encased in the suit with his helmet removed, greeted Natasha as she was carried out. "Well done, Romanoff." Natasha knitted her eyebrows together, expecting a witty remark alongside his restrained greeting.

Tony continued, "You had us scared...nothing like a spontaneous birth to get the pulse racing, right?" he laughed as Natasha was lifted towards the helicopter. "Now where's baby Blackhawk?" Tony lifted his eyes, searching for the newborn. Natasha rolled her eyes and suddenly felt a wave of fatigue descend over her.

Steve noticed her eyelids drooping. "Hey, Romanoff, rest while you can...Barton has her, we're all here..we're not going anywhere." She nodded gratefully at the Captain and finally allowed sleep claim her.

Clint presented "Baby Blackhawk" to a proud Tony and the rest of the gang as they exited the cave and loaded themselves into the awaiting evacuation helicopter.

It was time to leave the Amazon and go home.

* * *

End of Chapter 9

Only one chapter left..:(

I really hope you have enjoyed this story so far...I have a few other ideas as regards future stories up my sleeve but I'll have to wait and see how things turn out :D


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: _I don't own any of the characters.

Last chapter people! Thank you for all the views, alerts and reviews.

* * *

_Infirmary, SHIELD Headquarters, New York, October 2007_

* * *

_Clint was sat up in the bed, pillows propped at his back. He picked at the plastic covering the IV line in his hand. He reached a hand up to his face, scratching absently at the nasal cannula fitted under his nose. __He looked up when he sensed a presence in the doorway._

_Natasha was there, her left arm encased in a white cast. It lay in a sling, hanging loosely around her neck._

_"I see you got those butterfly bandages," Clint spoke, noticing her forehead._

_"You remember that?" she inquired, surprised that he managed to recall anything after Dixon's bodyguard decided to introduce Clint's side to a screwdriver._

_It had been almost two weeks since their capture in Munich. Clint had only woken three days ago._

_She sat down in the empty chair beside the bed._

_"Yeah..I can't remember much after I got stabbed, but I do remember you talking to me while I was drifting in and out," he replied, his mind flitting back to the vague memory._

_"We had a close call, Clint."_

_"Not the first, won't be the last," he responded simply. "We got through it though, didn't we?"_

_Natasha nodded, pausing for a moment, thoughts wandering aimlessly in her head. She thought about Dixon and the mission and her mind flashed back to Coulson's face when he informed her that their abductor had escaped. She told Clint as soon as he was lucid enough to take in the information after his coma._

_"Clint, you know there's always gonna be someone waiting to pounce, someone waiting for us to expose ourselves" she deduced regretfully. "There's always going to be people from our past in search of revenge."_

_Clint nodded in understanding. "There's always going to be a reason for us to look over our shoulder," he agreed. "It's one of the hazards of the job, Nat."_

_"You're a hazard with that mouth of yours," she admonished playfully, raising her free elbow, nudging him slightly in the arm._

_"Hey, that asshole deserved to have his feathers ruffled," he replied, casting his mind back to his taunting of the burly muscle man. "My mouth was the only weapon I could employ at the time."_

_Natasha shook her head in disbelief. She couldn't fathom how Clint had mustered up the energy to keep giving as good as he got during the horrifying interrogation. __"You gonna be okay?" she asked, eyes peering at the white gauze and bandages wound tightly around his waist._

_He looked down at the gauze and raised his eyes back to her, "Nothing that a few weeks of healing wouldn't mend," he said, echoing her words from the mission._

_She smiled and reached forward to lightly place her cast-free hand on his IV-free hand, the meeting of their warm flesh comforting one another. __"Get some rest, Barton," she whispered gently._

_Her voice almost lulled him back to sleep. He smiled back at her as she rose to her feet. __"You too, Romanoff."_

_They both came away from that mission with more than physical afflictions, scars that would decorate their bodies for a lifetime. They came away from that mission with the a greater understanding of one another, a greater sense of confidence in each other. He had been there for her, and she had been there for him. Although they hadn't committed to trusting each other completely, they knew that Munich had played a part in bringing the two of them closer together._

* * *

_Infirmary, SHIELD Headquarters, New York, Present day, 17:30pm _

* * *

Clint stared at the small sleeping figure in the cot adjacent to the bed he was sitting on. He was leaning his forearms on the edges of the cot, taking in the newborn's presence with an audible sigh. She was wearing a snow white baby grow with a tiny cap to match, covering her auburn wisps of hair. She lay on her belly with her head to the left and her arms parallel each side.

Aware of the change in Natasha's breathing coming from behind him, Clint turned his head to see her open her eyes lazily. She blinked heavily for a moment and focused her eyes on her partner sitting on the bed.

"Hi," Clint greeted with a gentle whisper. "How're you feeling?"

"Good...feeling good," she replied, a content smile appearing on her features. "We back at base?"

"Yeah, we arrived a couple of hours ago." He paused for a second, "You were exhausted, you slept through the whole flight."

Natasha sat up, plucking the pillows behind her to support her shoulders. She moved her head slightly to peer into the cot. "How is she doing?"

"She's great. Bruce weighed her..came in at 7 lbs 6 oz," Clint announced proudly. "She has auburn hair...just like you." He reached down to peek at the hair at the nape of the baby's neck. "She's been sleeping like a log for the past few hours as well."

Natasha couldn't help but grin at the sight of Clint's eyes transfixed upon their daughter. "Clint, we need a name."

"Really?...I was hoping we'd call her 'Baby Blackhawk' for the rest of her life."

"I'm sure Stark wouldn't disagree," Natasha beamed. "Any ideas?"

Clint raised his eyes to the ceiling, thinking. "Nothing springs to mind, yet...What about you?"

She peered down at the newborn, who yawned sweetly. "I was thinking maybe Alyona? It's got a bit of my Russian heritage in it," she suggested.

Clint nodded, approving of their christening. "Alyona, it is then."

Natasha flickered her eyes back to Clint. "Alyona Edith Barton," she added confidently.

Clint turned to meet Natasha's eyes with his own. The memory of his mother sprung to the forefront of his mind. "Nat, you sure?" he inquired, eyes shy.

"Yeah, why not?..It's got a nice ring to it."

Clint lips curved into a smile at the sight of his partner. Pure exhaustion and lack of sleep failed to hinder her internationally known beauty. A post-pregnancy glow now seemed to envelop her and he found himself gazing at his partner for a long moment, silently counting his blessings. He felt like his mind was trying to play catch up to what had happened in the last few hours. He felt the need to pinch himself to make sure that he wasn't dreaming of the bizarre whirlwind of events.

He had become a father and somehow his mind found it hard to register it.

"Fury came to see me shortly after we landed," Clint spoke up, quenching the long silence.

Natasha looked up, aware of his grim tone.

"He told me that one of his teams managed to storm Dixon's base in Kiev and intercept his plans to send more muppets after us," he continued, eyes serious. "He's dead, Natasha."

"Are they certain?" she asked, needing confirmation.

"Yeah, they confirmed it with DNA samples," he answered, calming her alert state. Natasha nodded slowly, absorbing the information.

Between being pursued by Dixon's henchmen, stumbling through the Amazon rainforest and giving birth in a cave, she found herself reeling from the last two day's events. Fury had promised to protect them, through any way he could. Even though their "vacation" didn't exactly go the way they had anticipated it, Fury remained true to his word. It was through his determination and conviction that herself, Clint and Alyona survived.

She eyed Clint's SHIELD jacket, laying across the seat beside the bed. The logo on the shoulder was visible, reminding her of Alyona's birth. It was ironic, in a way, that it was Clint's SHIELD jacket that enveloped Alyona after she was born.

The jacket stirred thoughts in her mind about the agency. The lifeline it had given her when she was at her lowest. SHIELD was the reason she and Clint encountered each other. SHIELD was the reason they had finally revealed their love for one another. SHIELD was the reason that Alyona had come into their lives. SHIELD and the Avengers were the reason they had managed to escape the Amazon and they were the reason they were finally safe from Dixon's clutches.

All the missions she had suffered through, bled for, risked life and limb for, now seemed like only a small price for what she had gained in return, joining the agency. Her conversation with Loki flitted across her mind.

_"__Your ledger is dripping, it's gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything?__"_

_"You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers."_

_"You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, to make up for the horrors. But they are part of you, and they will never go away."_

Loki was right, in a twisted kind of way. She shouldered the guilt, she stitched up the wounds of her past, willing them to heal as she pushed on. She defied his words. She wanted to be better. She longed to be free of the imagery of her victim's blood on her hands. She wanted to atone her sins. SHIELD had allowed her to do that. Clint had provided her with the opportunity to do that. And now, the Avengers had adopted that role.

She had found a family in her colleagues at SHIELD and in her Avenger team mates. She found her soul mate, and now she had become something she never thought she would be, a mother.

"We're gonna be all right, Nat," Clint spoke up, wary of her silence.

Natasha raised her eyes to the archer, lips curling up as she spoke, "I know we are."

Their exchange was interrupted by a faint noise coming from behind Clint. They drew their gaze to the cot where Alyona was eliciting small successive hiccups.

Clint smiled and moved to pick her up, her eyes remaining closed, his strong arms surrounding her small body. He snuggled her close to his chest and rocked her gently. He moved towards the bed and placed her in her mother's arms. Natasha embraced her gladly, drinking in the baby's scent. Alyona's soft skin caressed her bare arm, causing Natasha to embrace her even more. She couldn't get enough of her.

"She's all ours, Clint," Natasha spoke up, raising her eyes to where the archer stood at the side of bed, arms folded across his chest.

Clint smiled proudly at his partner. He glanced over his shoulder when movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye. He moved his eyes to look through the glass pane on the door. There stood Tony, Bruce, Steve and the newly arrived Thor.

Steve nodded respectfully, Bruce beamed from ear to ear, Thor brandished Mjolnir above his head and shook the hammer proudly, and Tony waved like an excited schoolgirl.

Clint chuckled to himself, shaking his head, slightly embarrassed by their congratulatory displays of affection. Natasha kept her eyes focused on Alyona, unaware of the excited commotion outside.

Suddenly a voice boomed outside the door, reaching both Clint's and Natasha's ears, causing them to erupt in laughter.

"WHO'S UP FOR SHAWARMA?"

* * *

Críoch

Can you guess who had the last line? :P

I'll be posting another story in the next few days so anyone who is interested have a look out for it! It is set before the Avengers formed and follows our intrepid pair on one of their SHIELD missions as partners back in the day.

Slán go fóill! :)


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